The Truck
by ectograsp
Summary: When Spencer gave Toby the truck, it was just a way for him to get from point A to point B. But it ended up being the centre of a lot of their most important moments. A series.
1. Chapter 1

She's been sitting in The Truck for twenty eight minutes, seven songs, and one weather announcement when she sees the curtains in Jenna's window twitch, like she's been expecting them to all along. She imagines Noel turning to Jenna and saying 'Spencer's just sitting out there.' She knows it'll make Jenna smile.

She meant to park The Truck in his driveway, get out and run back home as fast as she could, but once she got here… she couldn't do it. She knows that this is the last time she will get to sit in it and as stupid as it is, that kind of breaks her heart all over again. Aria would say it's is a symbol of her relationship with Toby and as douchey as it is, Spencer thinks in this case her hypothetical literary interpretation would be right on the money, because the thought of shutting the door and turning her back on The Truck makes her chest feel all tight and achey in a way that has absolutely nothing to do with an inanimate object and everything to do with leaving Toby behind – because he might be the one who left, but that's what she's doing: moving into a new realm of secrets and sleuthing and A while he fades into the distance with the meagre knowledge she granted him, as stale and meaningless as old bread, and the mistaken belief he's the only one who cares.

She stares at the spot where the dashboard meets the passenger side window, deliberately positioning her peripheral vision so she can't see the empty driver's seat. The second she stopped the car, she'd removed herself from it like it was burning because it felt wrong. That was Toby's seat and as long as she didn't have to look at it, empty, she could pretend he was there, that it was just another day when he would pick her up outside her house and they would spend hours in here like it was their house – because it was their home like their houses couldn't be. They used to drive around just talking and listening to music or looking out the window, until they were so fed up with not kissing that they had to pull over to kiss (she'd made so many parking jokes that Toby used to roll his eyes whenever she said the word). It still smells like him – like sawdust and toothpaste and fresh air. She'd scrubbed her perfume off before she got in today, because she didn't want her own smell to overpower it. He'd clearly made an effort to clear the truck of every vestige of him – gone were the playing cards in the glove-box (the first time Spencer had managed to beat him at poker, she'd bought an entire chocolate cake from the grocery store to celebrate and they'd eaten the whole thing parked on the hill at the Rosewood border, until they were sick), the spare shirt he kept on the backseat (precautionary, after she'd ripped the buttons off three and he was forced to go to work with his shirt open), the picture of Spencer poking her tongue out that was taped under the steering wheel. But there was still the mark on the passenger side window from when she'd thrown her keys onto the dashboard and scratched it (one of the few times Toby had gotten angry at her). She'd give anything to have him back now, yelling 'You defaced The Truck! You defaced The Truck!' Some things are too permanently etched to remove.

Her eyes fill with tears. She fucking loves The Truck. She doesn't want to leave it at his parents' house; the very idea is making her want to throw up and she feels remorse at abandoning it here, at a place where Toby was so miserable – like it's a puppy instead of a lump of metal. But she can't keep it in her driveway, and she doesn't want to. It doesn't belong to her.

Reaching out, she grazes the door handle with her fingertips, the furthest she's gotten so far. She's just closed her hand around it – in another five minutes maybe she'd have actually opened the door – when she hears the clatter of someone unlocking the Cavanaugh front door and she draws her hand back quick, because for some reason she hates the idea of Jenna or Noel being there when she gets out, watching her defeat (Jenna may not literally be able to watch her, but the word still fits with the way that girl knows everything that goes on around here). But it's not Jenna who emerges from the house – it's Toby's dad.

_Oh, fuck_ she thinks miserably, closing her eyes. Maybe Jenna would have been better. She can be openly bitchy to Jenna. But Toby wouldn't like her to be rude to his father.

Not that he'd ever know. Not that he doesn't now believe her capable of that betrayal and worse.

Her heart starts beating uncomfortably fast as George Cavanaugh steps down off the porch and walks towards her, his expression sombre. He looks nothing like Toby.

He approaches the window on her side and motions for her to wind the window down, steely grey eyes boring into hers. Shaking, she obeys and gives him a weak smile, hoping for… she doesn't know what.

'Hi, Mr Cavanaugh,' she stammers.

'Spencer,' he replies blankly. 'You're running the engine.'

She leans over towards the driving seat and turns the key; the familiar hum of the engine dies down and a lump forms in her throat; another step closer to leaving it behind.

She looks back at him – he's just standing there, looking at her. His eyes do not move from her face. It's making her itch and she wants badly to throw her hands up in front of her, blocking his gaze. He's just watching her. He's never been particularly friendly to her – he knows Jenna doesn't like her and somehow even this cold, unapproachable man has slipped under the thumb of that girl, and even the fact that his own son liked her – loved her – was not enough to change his opinion. He doesn't like her and he knows she knows it. She's never liked him either – not when he had the power to protect Toby from Jenna and did nothing. But as she's just driven his son out of town, she feels somewhat more like the guilty party right now. She's pretty sure Toby would not have told his dad why he was leaving town. But Jenna would. Jenna knows everything.

'I just… Toby left his truck at my house,' she says at last. 'I think he wanted me to… sell it or something. Because he hadn't paid me back for it yet. But I still want him to have it.'

'He's gone,' Mr Cavanaugh says, and behind that cardboard face she sees a glimpse of – sadness? Regret? Anger?

'I know,' she swallows. 'He left me a note. But I thought maybe you could keep it for him… for when he comes back. Or even sell it, and send him the money. It's just; um… it does still belong to him.'

He stares at her for a moment. Spencer can't help it – she searches his face for a bit of Toby, anything. But there's nothing of him in this man. Not for the first time, she wishes she could have met Toby's mother. It's always confounded her, how someone as bright and warm and good as Toby could have come from so unfeeling a man, so unwelcoming a house. The Miracle Of Toby.

'I will keep the truck for him,' Mr Cavanaugh says slowly.

'Thank you –'

' – but I would like to know something.'

Her mouth drops open.

'I… okay…'

'Did you love him?'

The simple question from a man who had never, ever wanted to know before brings tears flooding to Spencer's eyes and she doesn't try to blink them away. She gulps back a sob and crosses her arms over her chest, glaring at the dash, horrified with herself for breaking down, let alone in front of Toby's father – who should not have to watch her cry over this – but unable to pull herself together. She is bleakly aware that Jenna is probably 'watching'. Seriously – this is what she has been reduced to?

Does she love him?

She's seventeen years old and the best memories of her life all take place in the year that she's known him. She used to dream about graduating from Harvard or Yale and beating Melissa at life and winning her parents' approval, and now the only thing she dreams of is being free to be with him. She's been sitting in The Truck for thirty two minutes because she can't bring herself to say goodbye to the inanimate object that is the last thing tying them together.

'I do,' she manages to say – hoarse, her voice thick with tears. I do, I do, I do, I do, I do…

She can't imagine ever not loving him again.

There's a pause, and then she hears Mr Cavanaugh say 'So do I.'

She looks up at him, slightly stunned, and finds that his face has softened into what can only be described as empathy. She realizes she's looking at the Original Person Who Loves Toby But Hurt Him Anyway, though she hadn't realized he was aware he'd done any such thing.

'I love my son,' Mr Cavanaugh says quietly, putting his hand on the side of the door. 'I know Toby has sometimes doubted that, with… the way things are in our house and the way I am. But I love him very much and I know that it is possible to hurt him even when… even when that is the way things are. I think… perhaps you didn't mean to. I have never been able to properly explain to myself, let alone to Toby, why I have not been the father I wanted to be and why I have let some things happen the way they did. I… imagine there are some things you have not been able to explain as well.'

Spencer stares at him, shocked beyond belief at his perception (she is not at all used to adults understanding) and at this, the longest speech she has ever heard him make. There are tears in his eyes and he looks at her imploringly.

'I am telling you this because Toby will be back, Spencer. He is not the kind of man to leave things unfinished and you and he are unfinished. If my mistakes with my son can be worth something, let it be that I have the wisdom to warn you – use this time apart to consider how to explain to Toby that you are sorry… and that you still love him. I know him, and I think that will be enough, one day.'

When he finishes speaking, Mr Cavanaugh closes his eyes for a second, like he has tired himself out with all the truth, and when he opens them again he gives her a shaky smile, the corners of his mouth turned up nervously, like they are out of practice at smiling just as he was out of practice being friendly. Spencer is speechless. She can't imagine what has changed Mr Cavanaugh since the last time she'd seen him – two weeks after the Shovel Incident (which coincided with her breaking up with Toby), on the street outside Lucky Leon's, he had glared at her with a dislike as fervent as Jenna's.

As if he were reading her mind, he says 'I have come to realize that if I ever want Toby to stop running away, I – I need to give him some reasons to stay,' he says hoarsely. 'You have… always been a big one.'

She had often hated Mr Cavanaugh, because he was Toby's parent – Toby's, not Jenna's – and he had never protected his son. But she had only recently come to understand that sometimes the people you love are the ones you hurt the most, and no-one knows why but you. She has come to understand why you might hang onto hope you can be forgiven.

'I – I'm trying to make it so when he gets back… I'll be able to explain everything to him,' she says. 'But it might not be possible.'

'Try,' Mr Cavanaugh says firmly, and turns and walks back to the house. She watches him go, and thinks of that old adage about men appearing smaller when you get inside their heads. She hopes one day she can get a bit of his clarity, about what it is she should do in order to fix things. She knows it probably won't be as easy as giving advice to another person about how not to repeat her mistakes.

Suddenly, Spencer knows that she has to get out of The Truck – that if she doesn't do it right now, she will never be able to get out. She's got to do it now. Now.

Now.

She throws the door open and trips out, stumbling slightly on the concrete and pushing it closed behind her. She tries to cling to Mr Cavanaugh's words (Toby will be back) (you and he are unfinished) (he will be back) (try) and the hope that they give her – she tries to let go of The Truck.

'Bye, Truck,' she whispers, giving it one last pat on the door, and with her heart in her mouth she leaves it behind and starts down the street back to her house, holding back tears that seemed to come more easily these days, hoping with everything she has that one day soon she will be able to run back.

**A/N:** I hope you all enjoyed this! I am still incredibly sad about the current state of Spencer and Toby; I just love Spencer for being so brave. I've always loved that truck, too. I wanted to write about the moment that made Spencer cry when she was just sitting in there listening to the radio, and it morphed into an encounter with Toby's father. I wonder if the show will ever introduce us to Toby's father and Jenna's mother – I think it would be interesting to see the circumstances that managed to foster such a lovely person as Toby and such an awful one as Jenna, to witness the often referenced way Jenna controls that household and to see Toby around his family. It's obvious he's not close to his dad but as he's Toby I can only imagine that being his father's fault; at the same time, I didn't want him to be one dimensionally cruel and cold. I know this was a bit vague about Mr Cavanaugh's motivations and feelings, but I thought it was necessary as it was in Spencer's perspective – and maybe the show will get into specifics at some point, which I didn't want to contradict.

I would love reviews! Criticism, comments, anything you feel like leaving me would be appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**New A/N:** Sorry about the weird bit that was tacked onto the end of this! We have a weird computer arrangement in my house and my cousin is writing a Harry Potter fic – some of her planning got mixed up with this. All fixed now!

He's driving down Deep Creek Road in the first vehicle he's ever owned, and the streets he hated no longer seem so ugly. Rows of near-identical houses so square and crisply cornered they could have been folded from paper crowd him in like always, trees filling the creases between each one like grout in a brick wall: a barricade that defies its inhabitants to even imagine any kind of outside world. Windows that seem to watch him even when no-one is inside; and every person, every jogger and dog-walker and driver has always been a reminder to him that he is not welcome. They look at him with loathing and disgust (and worst of all, fear), and every time he met their eyes they seemed to say _Just because we hate you doesn't mean you're free to leave. _There is only one consequence of being hated in Rosewood, and that's to be trapped there forever to be judged.

Those people hadn't counted on Spencer.

She's sitting next to him, practically quivering with triumph in that way he usually associates with too much caffeine (which in Spencer's case is _any caffeine at all). _She gets it – how different it feels to drive down these streets in something you own; something you can, hypothetically, take with you. Something which, even as a way to get from home to work, is giving him hope for the future and a life away from here.

He loves that she's so happy – just because he is. She's the kind of person who wants to fix things for the people she cares about and he knows it's been killing her that he was so hard up for work he had to take a job at Jason DiLaurentis' place. But it was killing her more that he felt stuck. He loves that she's a girl who doesn't just sit around and sympathize. She is crazy and incredible and _makes_ things better even if she has to be a little bit insane in the process. He's not thrilled about the idea of her shelling out a small fortune to do him a favour but she would never forgive him for making this about money (when he knows she'd never have asked for him to pay her back if he hadn't mentioned it).

Sitting in this truck, with Spencer and a future that's expanding like the universe from dust, the streets of Rosewood cease to be a trap and instead form a streamlined tunnel. He could just keep driving; and this time it wouldn't be running away. It would be running towards something. He won't, because Spencer's life is here for now and he won't leave her. But _he could. He could, he could, he could…_

He literally can't stop smiling; he can clamp his lips shut and try, but in a couple of seconds he's grinning again and he's pretty much accepted it's a futile effort – also, Spencer is snickering at him in her incredible raspy sexy Spencer way and he has no reason to hide his happiness from her. So he gives up and grins stupidly as he drives, feeling her watching him, until she starts laughing again because he probably looks ridiculous.

'Shut up,' he commands her, trying to sound serious and failing.

'Sorry,' she giggles. 'You look _high.'_

'Well then stop watching me!' he says, feeling his face go red.

'No way, it's fun! I like seeing you happy.' Her voice goes soft in that way that he'd never even known about before he started dating her and always makes his heart beat faster.

'Trust me, I am.'

The fact that she bought him a truck is still unbelievable to him. He's accepted the reality of the statement – _'It's yours' – _but every few minutes the truth of what she has done for him and what it means hits him like a wave and he's stunned all over again.

'I have a truck,' he says happily. Like a mantra; a freaking miracle.

'You have a truck!' she shouts. Pauses, and then beams because she likes the sound of it. 'You have a _truck!'_

'I have a truck!'

'_You have a truck!'_

'You,' he says, wonder in his voice, '_bought me a truck.'_ He pulls his eyes off the road and looks at her for a moment. He told he loved her today and she said in so many words that she loved him back. But it's not like they didn't look at each other all the time and just _know. _

He looks at her now and keeps his hand steady on the wheel because the road is straight in front of them, and he tries to tell her again, bigger and better. He thinks she gets it because the infallible Spencer goes pink.

'Yeah…' she replies, giving him a shaky smile. They're both kind of shaky with it. 'Well, I am expecting a helicopter for my birthday…'

'Ha,' he snorts. 'Don't get your hopes up.'

'You mean you're not one of those billionaire carpenters?' she asks, all mock disappointment.

He knows she's kidding, but he wishes he could fast forward to the time when the truck and the job and how hard he's going to work all pay off and he's – probably not a billionaire, but well off. Successful. He wants to give her _her _truck, whatever it may be. Something that'll make her happy. He reaches out and takes her hand.

'I'll make you something,' he says quietly. 'Seriously, something beautiful. And maybe one day I'll learn how to build a helicopter out of wood.'

She smiles at him and threads her fingers through his. 'I believe you.'

And she does. That's what's so great about her. She can believe a thousand impossible things before breakfast. About him, at least. Including the fact that one day, he just may build her a helicopter. For now he'll settle for furniture. He'll start with a rocking chair and stop when he's furnished her an entire house.

They stare out the windows with their hands knotted together like a couple of mushy fools, which is exactly what Toby is and what Spencer is on certain awesome days, in between being fierce and unstoppable. Everything outside of the truck seems smaller, like they're looking out from a castle instead of a second hand fixer upper.

He takes a really long route from Jason's house to his – including a detour around the park and a couple of laps around the high school, because neither of them really want to arrive at the Cavanaugh house and just driving is a bit of a thrill at the moment. But when they left – Jason gave him the afternoon off because he was so stupid with glee about the truck – they agreed he should probably get changed before they go out for dinner (well, he insisted. Spencer basically begged him to just leave his sweaty shirt in the backseat). When it starts to get dark, Spencer looks at him from the corner of her eye and he can tell she's thinking _Let's just get it over with so we can leave and go back to being disgustingly happy about the truck your hot girlfriend bought you. _

He's paraphrasing.

They pull into his driveway and immediately, Spencer tenses. Jenna's sitting on the front porch, fiddling with the strap on her flute case. She's packing up – but she's definitely heard wheels on the concrete and brakes creaking, so there won't be any escaping her.

'I'll just go in and get changed,' says Toby, touching Spencer on the shoulder, but she raises her eyebrows.

'You're going to have to tell her about the truck you just arrived in, right? She's going to want to know whose car it is when it doesn't pull away like a cab.'

'I guess.'

'Well, I definitely want to hear what she has to say about it,' Spencer says, voice hinting at mischief (and the usual ominous something that is present whenever they talk about Jenna), and she reaches for the door handle.

'Spencer…' he says hesitantly. It's not that he doesn't think Jenna's going to be characteristically snotty about it, or that Spencer isn't totally entitled to want to hear whatever she says. He just doesn't want to give his stepsister any ammunition to make their parents see a really amazing gesture as… whatever Jenna decides it is. And if Spencer gets out of the car, ammunition will be exchanged.

He doesn't want Jenna to ruin what has been one of the best days of his life.

Maybe Spencer sense that, because her expression is serious when she says 'I promise I won't get into it with her. I just want to know what she says.'

'Yeah… okay,' he says, and pulls their still entwined hands up so he can kiss hers. 'That's fair.' He may not like it, but it is fair.

They get out of the car and he can practically see Jenna's ears prick up when two doors slam shut instead of one. She will have been expecting him to get home from work around now.

'Toby?' she asks, and as usual the weird sweetness in her voice when she says his name sends shivers down his spine. He glances at Spencer, who is staring at Jenna like she's the anti-Christ, and sighs. Despite her promise, and the fact that he knows she really meant it, it's highly unlikely they'll get to leave without some form of snark being exchanged. Jenna's too nasty… and Spencer is not one to take anything lying down.

'Yeah, it's me.'

'And…'

'Spencer.'

Jenna's nose wrinkles like she smells something terrible and he sees Spencer roll her eyes. 'Oh.'

'Yeah, she uh… she bought me a truck, so I'm taking her out to dinner to say thanks. And to celebrate my new job.'

Jenna is clearly incredulous. 'She bought you a _truck?'_

'Yeah, I did,' Spencer says coolly.

'And she – wait, what new job?'

Toby's surprised to hear a bit of hurt in Jenna's voice, behind all the anger and control-freak panic. She's a frighteningly clever girl but she's got a mental block when it comes to the question of why he doesn't want to share every single little detail of his life with her, or even, you know, stand in the same room with her if he can help it. He doesn't feel bad about it.

'It's a construction job in Yardley, Jenna.'

'And why do you need a job so far away?' Her tone is that of a parent of all things and the idea that she so obviously believes she knows what's best for him makes him inexplicably angry.

'Because it'll be a great way to learn, and it pays really well, and the more money I make the faster I can get away from you,' he says coldly.

The false politeness in her face disappears and she purses her lips, offended as she always is at the insinuation that anyone can actually escape from her clutches if she doesn't want them to.

'Hey, way to go,' Spencer stage whispers, giving him a grin and a thumbs up. And because Jenna has super creepy hearing powers, she hears her loud and clear and as with everything Spencer says, she overreacts and puffs up with rage.

'Careful, Spencer,' she hisses. 'Keep buying Toby presents and people might get the idea you're in this for the long haul. Everyone knows the people in your life _end up with regrets.'_

He narrows his eyes at Jenna, disgusted with her. She has every reason to hate Alison, but he'll never be okay with her taunting Spencer about the murder of her friend, even if Spencer is usually pretty calm about it – she has to be, considering how many enemies Alison had. He glances sideways at her and is surprised to see that she's gone completely white. She looks _furious. _But there's also fear in her eyes and that's what he doesn't understand – Jenna has always been afraid of Spencer, not the other way around.

'Careful, Jenna,' says Spencer, her voice shaking with barely suppressed anger. 'I know you're used to people bowing down whenever you threaten them, but I don't do that anymore. And if you give Toby a hard time about the truck or his job, _you'll _regret it.'

Despite the fact that Jenna can't see, there's a staring thing going on and Toby gets the impression he's… missing something.

'Toby, go get changed. I'm gonna sit in the truck,' Spencer says, struggling to bring her voice down to a more serene pitch. She looks at him, the vestiges of anger on her face, but mouths _I'm sorry. _He nods _I know. _He knows she never means to get into it with Jenna. But when Jenna wants to start a fight, a fight gets started.

He goes inside and gets changed in about twenty seconds flat, practically running back outside because he half expects to find Jenna and Spencer slinging mud at each other in his front yard. But Jenna's sitting huffily in her chair on the porch while Spencer waits for him, seeming considerably less enraged than before. He ignores his stepsister and goes straight to the truck, knowing that when he comes home later she'll have a whole speech prepared about how wrong Spencer is for him and why he shouldn't distance himself from his family and how she's the only one who understands him. She'll probably have gotten to his dad by then, who'll stiffly lecture Toby about the inadvisability of dating a girl who is _'always getting into trouble', _while his stepmother nods along and weepily bemoans the fact he won't listen to Jenna, who _'could really help you, Toby, if you'd only let her show you how much she cares.' _

But getting into the truck and shutting the door behind him makes him dread those inevitabilities a little less – he has a getaway car now.

'You okay?' he asks Spencer gently.

'I'm fine. I just see Jenna and get the overwhelming urge to deserve police interest for once,' she says darkly.

'I get that,' he says.

'But hey,' she says, and she slides towards him, placing a hand on his cheek and grinning. _'We have a getaway car.'_

'Yeah we do!'

It really doesn't matter that for Spencer, graduation is ages away and that really, there are a lot of things keeping them here beyond their control. It doesn't matter that when it comes down to it, they're both determined that when they leave, they'll have no loose ends and nothing holding them back, and right now that day seems really far off. They have The Truck and everything else will come with time.

**A/N:** I meant for the last chapter to be a stand-alone, but now ideas about the truck keep popping into my head and I think it's going to be a series! Some will be related, some will not. This one, obviously, is meant to explore the immediate post 2x03 and Jenna's reaction to the truck. I hope you like it, and would appreciate any and all reviews!


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